


Day 4 - Colors/Friendship

by a_verysmallviolet



Series: Korra Appreciation Week 2015 [4]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Friendship, Gen, Holi Festival, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 00:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3337847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_verysmallviolet/pseuds/a_verysmallviolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they wander into a traditional Earth Kingdom festival, the Krew finds their own cause for celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 4 - Colors/Friendship

“Eyes on the road!”

Korra glances into the rearview mirror, arches an eyebrow, and leans in to kiss Asami again. In the backseat, Mako raises his eyes to the heavens.

“The next time someone invites me on a road trip with the Avatar, I’m going to – “

“Put it in your planner with perfect calligraphy and little smiley faces all around it,” Bolin interrupts. “And if you don’t want to draw the happy faces, I will.”

Mako’s answer is cut off by Naga sticking her head over his shoulder from the flatbed. Chuckling, he scratches her under the chin and shifts the map out of reach of her drool. A week and a half of crisscrossing the Earth Republic with each other had taught them all a lot of things, including that Naga drooled profusely in cars. Not in ships or airships: only in cars.

“Hey, how much longer until we reach the next town?” Korra asks over her shoulder. “Our gas is getting low.”

Mako consults the map, finger tracing their path. “If you take a left at the next crossing, then it’s only a couple miles to…” He squints. “Nokha.”

Asami turns in her seat. “Weren’t we supposed to get gas yesterday?”

“Yeah, but we ran into that ball game between the two elephant teams, remember? And then we couldn’t find that restaurant in the guidebook Mako brought, and Bolin got lost looking for another one – “

“Hey, I’m a growing Bolin!” Bolin protests. The fire ferret seated on his lap chirrs in agreement.

“You _swore_ you smelled something cooking,” Mako reminds him.

“I did! You’re not going to deny that fish steamed in banana leaves we got from the vendor in the end was pretty good anyway, right?”

“Especially with the crunchy peanut sauce,” his brother concedes. “Mm. That _was_ pretty good.”

Korra licks her lips at the memory, and the rest of the drive proceeds in wistful silence.

As assured, in less than ten minutes they’re driving past the town boundaries. Nokha is a good-sized town, but strangely quiet. There aren’t any cars in the gas station where they pull over to refuel and stretch their legs. Korra tilts her head. Is that drums she hears?

“I hear it too,” Asami says when she asks the others.

“You want to go see what’s going on?” Korra inquires. Secretly she’s dying for them to say yes.

“Sure,” Asami shrugs. Mako and Bolin are willing too, so with Naga trailing them and Pabu perched on Bolin’s shoulder, they set off into town.

Street after street is nearly deserted, although there’s the sound of muffled laughter and celebration in some of the courtyard houses they pass. Then they turn the corner into the town’s center square, and an avalanche of sensation strikes them. Sound, music, laughter, shouting, eye-smarting _color_ collide against their senses, so that all four travelers stand dazed for a moment with it. Then Asami yelps.

“Holi!”

“Holy what?” Korra asks.

“Not holy, like an adjective. _Holi_. It’s a southern Earth Kingdom festival,” Asami explains. As she speaks she’s busy wrapping a scarf around her head and tucking her hair securely under it. “My mother was from the northwest, so we never took part, but I know it’s to celebrate spring coming. People light bonfires the night before, and then in the morning you take colored powders – gulal powders, they’re called - and mix them with water, and – “

“Throw it on people,” Mako puts in. When Korra glances at him, she sees the beginnings of a smile as he studies the scene. “If you’re in the street, you’re fair game. Bolin and I used to go to the southern Earth Kingdom parts of the city when we were little to take part.”

“And anyone can do this?” Korra asks. “Wait – _you guys_ want to do this?”

“Well, duh, what do you think we’ve been telling you?” Bolin says with a broad grin. “Come on, let’s go!”

He takes off running into the crowd. Mako and Asami, the same wide smiles on their faces, follow suit; Asami takes Korra’s hand and pulls her along. Naga lopes along in their wake.

Within seconds someone’s pressed a bucket of vibrantly colored water into Korra’s hands, and someone else – several someone elses – has doused her with their own tubs. Korra blinks, gasps, catches sight of Asami dodging nimbly below a stream of lilac water and Mako laughing and splashing a pair of boys with skin as brown as Wu’s. Bolin flashes her a grin and thumbs-up as he passes by, Pabu peeping out of his jacket, before he dives back into the crowd.

Gradually, Korra gets caught up in the rhythm of the festival too, splashing passerby without worry and getting splashed back. Naga’s white fur is soon streaming and colorful as a rainbow while she frolics with children; Korra herself is soaked to the skin. The blazing sun overhead makes it pleasant and refreshing; laughter and the rollicking joy of the crowd make the experience into an exciting game.

She stumbles back into a sunlit alley, laughing and trying to catch her breath. There are three platters of dry, unused gulal powder left on a ledge: forgotten by some reveler, perhaps. The rest of the Krew have found their way there too. The brothers look disheveled and rumpled as a pair of penguin-otters after a swim; Asami, though equally wet, doesn’t have a hair out of place or a smudge on her makeup. All three of them have grins as big as Korra’s.

“What do you think?” Bolin asks, slightly short of breath. He’s leaning against the wall with his hands behind his back, apparently as breathless as she is. “Fun?”

“Fun,” Korra agrees, and whips the three bowls of powder into their faces with a gust of wind. Identical shocked expressions appear on their faces: Asami’s now mauve, Mako’s blazing yellow, and Bolin’s a deep ultramarine.

“I’m sorry,” Korra says hastily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I just –“

Asami’s teeth appear startling white against the mauve powder coating her face. “Korra, Korra, _Korra_ ,” she says with mock severity. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

As one the rest of the Krew whip their hands out from behind their backs and hurl pails of water at Korra. She dodges some, gets drenched by the rest, waterbends up the multi-colored streams, and charges her friends with a roar of laughter. The war is on.

It’s a war of powder explosions and water bright as a sunset, of shrieking as Asami rubs a handful of powder into her hair and then twisting to bend an icicle down the engineer’s back. It’s laughing until her sides ache, clambering with Mako on Naga’s back to fend off Asami and Bolin’s assault with a literal _tub,_ the four of them banding together to grapple with a group of young townspeople who seem absolutely thrilled to be pelting the Avatar and getting pelted back. It’s sound, it’s color, it’s coolness and sunlight. Simply put, it’s joy.

Later, they all crowd together into a streetside table at a café, snacking on mangos and pastries stuffed with coconut and raisins. They’d washed their hands to eat, but from the wrists up they all still bear the marks of the morning’s celebrations. Even after Korra bent the water out of their hair and clothes, Mako’s hair is drying in pink and turquoise spikes, and Bolin’s eyebrows are solid orange. Asami is limited to a single wet strand of hair plastered against her cheek. Korra knows from her aching cheeks, her stiff hair, and the droplets of green she keeps blinking out of her eyes that she is much close in appearance to the brothers than to her girlfriend. For a moment, she considers how much easier things would be if she could be like Naga. A simple shake had gotten the water and pigment out of her coat, and now the polar bear dog is only faintly tinted with color. All the Krew’s clothes bear vivid splashes of color, and will remain so until they get back to the car and dry clothes.

Korra turns her attention back to her plate and more serious troubles. Someone’s trying to steal the last of the coconut pastries.

“Mako,” she chides. “I was saving that one.”

He shrugs, but breaks the pastry in half and hands her a piece. “Is it me, or is everyone else really hungry?”

A chorus of agreement goes up. Bolin, who’s feeding almonds to Pabu, adds, “I never thought I’d see Asami put away half a platter of mangoes, but – hey!”

Asami had flicked an almond at him, and Pabu had leapt up with a chirr to snatch it out of the air. Turning back to Korra, she says, “And I never thought _you’d_ put that icicle down the back of my shirt.” Her sunny smile wipes away any hint of accusation. Korra shrugs, returning the smile.

“So they have celebrations for Holi in Republic City too?” she asks.

“Yes. Mostly in neighborhoods where a lot of people are from the southern Earth Kingdom – you know, Tiger Heights, Little Agra,” Mako says. “Why?”

“I thought it’d be nice to take part next year, without having to go on another road trip. We could even invite Tenzin and the airbabies.”

“Aw,” Bolin says. “But I _like_ the road trips!”

“So do I,” she says. “But wouldn’t you rather go somewhere new each year?”

Mako chokes on the last bite of his pastry, and Bolin pats his back. While the firebender is wheezing and gulping down a glass of iced tea, Asami adds, “Spirits. Can’t you just imagine Meelo going nuts during the festival?”

“Spirits,” Korra repeats blankly. They all look at each other for a moment, before bursting into laughter. Bolin points at Mako.

“Lin! Think of Lin! You sneaking up behind her with this gigantic pail of…”

“I would _never_ ,” Mako gasps. He tries to get himself back under control, coughs, and starts cracking up again. “But, while we’re on the subject, what about Huan _?”_

“Think about _Tahno_!” Korra shouts gleefully. “Pretty boy wouldn’t like it at all if we messed up his hair.”

A general shout of laughter greets this. Bolin bends over and starts beating the table with his fist, almost crying with mirth. Pabu gives his friend a despairing look, then glances at the other three young people, all equally filled with hilarity and bandying jokes back and forth.

He hops off the table and goes to Naga outside. She beats her plumed tail in greeting. Pabu twitches his nose at her.

_Our humans are going mad inside._

Naga huffs. One ear goes up; the other remains low. _I know. That’s really nothing new, is it?_

Pabu scratches his neck with his hind leg. _No. I suppose not._

With a bound, he leaps up onto Naga’s head, and together the two friends wait for their human companions to calm down.


End file.
